


It Was Peace

by Starlithorizon



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Character study probably, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Mild Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-22
Updated: 2013-03-22
Packaged: 2017-12-06 01:52:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/730258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starlithorizon/pseuds/Starlithorizon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rory reflects on his friendship with the Doctor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Was Peace

**Author's Note:**

> Just a brief little thing that's been in my head.

I watched in horror as understanding crossed his face. It was a sensation I was hideously, horribly familiar with, and this was no different.

Except it was.

It grew worse and worse every time.

I remembered when I had first met the strange man, Amy's Raggedy Man, in the flesh. An imaginary friend turned real. That it coincided so neatly with that big eye thingy—the Atraxi, I suppose—was so surprising then and so obvious now. Yes, most of the time, he (later, _we_ ) followed trouble, but come on. Trouble was always, _always_ hot on our heels. It was always _right there_ , so close. Look at the Pandorica. We didn't ask for that, not a single one of us. Not that anyone really remembers. Just this ridiculous ragtag group of time travelers.

I waited for two thousand years, and Amy was dead for two thousand years, all in an alternate timeline or whatever it was.

I mean, come on, who lives a life like that?

Amy was nearly fish fodder for those "vampires" in Venice.

Amy was nearly killed by a Minotaur for believing in the Doctor.

 

I died more often than is really recommended.

Our daughter was taken from us just after she was born in the future.

I watched one of my best friends die, sort of.

Here's the thing: no matter how patently absurd it was, I wouldn't trade it for anything. No one else can say that they were a Roman soldier made of plastic, or that they rode a triceratops on a spaceship, or that they saved their wife from turning into a Dalek. While I knew, absolutely and suddenly and completely, that the terrible understanding dawning on our guide's face spelled doom for me, I still wouldn't dare trade it in.

For every unfounded fear that she loved him better, Amy gave me a thousand little glimmers of proof that she loved _me_ , that she was mine and I was hers. I could have lived every day of my life wondering how she truly felt about me, but I was reassured so constantly and regularly, all the time. Nearly dying every other day really does that to a person.

When I nearly lost her, he was there to save her. _Us_.

But it wasn't just me and Amy. The Doctor and I had become, bizarre as this sounds, actual friends. I was his father-in-law, the husband of one of his best friends, perhaps one his best friends in my own right. And, I won't lie: knowing that this was ending, and so soon, _hurt_.

Knowing that my father was proud of me was wonderful, but having the _Doctor_ be proud of me was like a supernova. He was the alien who had seen and heard and done it all, and to have _him_ be proud of _me_? It was like honour, ridiculous as that may sound.

Knowing that there was fear and sadness and pain behind that flash of understanding almost, _almost_ made up for what I knew what would happen. Damn it all, the Doctor was more than my son-in-law, or my guide, or a big man-child filled with anger and sadness.

He was my friend, and I was sorry to go.

At least it was quick. And Amy was only seconds behind me.

It was peace.


End file.
